


Deep in the Scandal Sheets

by deecherrywolf



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-24 20:25:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12020355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deecherrywolf/pseuds/deecherrywolf
Summary: Day 3 of my Voltron Nsfw Week Entries -A klance historical romance that is anything but accurate.





	Deep in the Scandal Sheets

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't give this a proper summary because I actually plan on, in the future, possibly fleshing this out into something more - so if this ever disappears, it means that yeah, I'm working on an actual full on fic with it :p
> 
> And as stated on my tumblr and in the summary - it may be pegged as historical, but there is no accuracy in it whatsoever. It's all based on the historical romance novels i've been gobbling up at the speed of light~ So yeah, enjoy?

“Is that the Marquess of Garrison over there?”

There were few things that could soil a lady’s seasonal soirée for Lance, Lord of the McClain, and the Marquess of Garrison was one of them. There had been something about the other man that really ticked Lance off. He scowled at his friend Hunk Garrett - an Earl in his own right, as most of the people here were of aristocracy, and with good reason. Today, Princess Allura was having her season. King Alfor had decided to do a rather unorthodox method in allowing his daughter to have a season, rather than betroth her off - she could have her pick of any of the blue blooded men that attended.

Not that Lance would be chosen - he was, after all, a scot. 

But he sure as hell didn’t want the damned Marquess of Garrison winning her over. No way. He couldn’t allow Keith fucking Kogane to become Prince of Altea.

Hunk smirked at him, brow cocking. “Why do you hate him so much?”

“How can you not hate him, look at him!”

Hunk cast a look to where Keith stood, his back against the wall and his arms crossed - his whole body language was closed off and it definitely worked - warding away the young women who dared approach him, their longing looks pouty and pitiful. Still, the few times Hunk had met the marquess, he had gotten along with the other man - so Lance’s hostility was odd.

“What, did he scoff at you for being a scot?”

Lance frowned. “No, I don’t think he even knew I was one.”

“How could he not know? Your last name-”

“Precisely why I despise him, he didn’t even know my blasted name, the smug arse, just because he is a bloody marquess-”

“Lord McClain, Lord Garrett, how is your evening?”

The royal advisor - Lord Coran, was making the rounds, greeting all the suitors. Lance could feel his tongue grow heavy. He knew that he had no chance with the Princess and he was sure the other lords, be they dukes or no, were all probably wondering why he was here - this man of Scotland. He straightened his back.

“I am in need of fresh air.”

“Yes, of course.”

He stalked away from the royal advisor, away from his friend - who was talking just fine to the other lord. Lance couldn’t help but think of his brogue, how he had to hide it just to fit in this place. It made him miss home, miss his huge family and their warmth. He’d have to make do with a different warmth today, as usual when he came to Altea.

Spotting a lady who had the same idea as he, he stalked over to her and struck up an easy conversation - easier than with the royal advisor. But he had different intentions now than then, and he was used to these intentions.

***

Keith hated these things, these seasons he attended with the Duke of Garrison - his unmarried uncle that wanted to find a love match. Love matches… hmph. As if anyone in the aristocracy was really concerned with love. They only wanted to make sure they secured their lines while others wanted to move up higher. It was all about the bluer the blood, the better. Keith didn’t care about such things, he never even wanted the damned title. He had been happy not knowing his uncle was a duke, happy living his life the way he wished.

But when his father passed, his uncle - Takashi Shirogane, was given custody of him.

One of the good things that came from this, was no one ever scoffed at him for being a half asian descent again, or at least to his face… still, the title was good for that.

He watched as Takashi talked to one of the many ladies that came out to enjoy Princess Allura’s season, no doubt looking to snatch a man of their own. Well, Takashi was more than ready to find his duchess as well.

He turned and headed out the door, the fresh air a welcoming sensation. He hated ballrooms, hated the stuffy atmosphere - the people who hung around in there. He breathed in again, soaking up the smell of green when a giggle made him frown, looking to his right to find a pair not far off, pressed against the side of the building.

The woman was flushed pink, her lips looking oh so soft and full - recently have been kissed, no doubt. Her skirts were hiked ever so slightly to allow the man some room between her legs. And that man, standing in between the fabrics, was definitely… familiar to Keith. He squinted his eyes at the brown head, that brown hair and that tanned complexion. He recognized him… but who was he?

“Oh, Lord McClain, we shouldn’t!”

Ah yes, Lord Lance McClain, the scotsman. Of course the rake would be out here, enjoying some trollop. Keith resisted the urge to say something, but with his luck, the woman noticed him, her eyes going wide at the sight of him - no doubt recognizing him.

“Y-Your Lordship!”

That dark head turned, deep blue eyes finding Keith. There was something in the way those eyes flared that made Keith’s blood roar. The way Lord McClain looked at him that simply put him on edge and made him want to act like the little boy he had been years ago, It was refreshing to feel like this, to feel so freed from his title.

The lady was smoothing her frills, redoing her bodice faster than Keith thought possible - proof that she was used to such trysts. He didn’t approach, as he hadn’t intended to break up this illicit meeting. But the lady approached him.

“I had no idea you were here tonight.”

Not that he wanted to be.

When he did not speak to her, she gave a soft curtsy and left back into the building. After she disappeared, Lance groaned loudly - straightening his jacket as he approached.

“Must you ruin everything?”

Keith raised an eyebrow at that. “Everything? I hardly know you to ruin everything.”

The spark in the scots eyes seemed to ignite a fire in that body that Keith found himself longing to prod with a poker. What was it about this blasted man that made Keith want to act like some schoolboy?

“And yet, here you are - ruining my night.”

“There are plenty other whores around for you to play with.”

Lance snorted. “Lady Luxia is no whore, she is the daughter of a duke and very intelligent.”

“Ah yes, so intelligent she deemed it appropriate to let some notorious scoundrel sully her up against a princess’s ballroom.”

That caused Lance to flush in embarrassment, jabbing a finger at him.

“You, are a proper ass, your lordship.” The way he said that sounded so mocking, that it made Keith smirk, watching the way the other straightened his back, crossed his arms, and jutted his chin high. “You are just jealous you cannot woo a young lady.”

Keith’s nose wrinkled. “I do not wish to woo any young ladies, it’s not a lack of trying, it’s a lack of desire.”

He did not want to woo anyone. Ever.

Lance blinked, eying him and Keith was suddenly aware of their proximity, how close the other was standing to him. He could feel his body heat, practically hear his breathing if he strained to. Then, Lance’s lips curled into a sly smile - one that had Keith a little more than worried.

“I see, this will be one for the scandal sheets.”

Keith’s brow furrowed “What will be?”

Lance tossed his hand up in a flourish. “I can see it now, Moody Marquess Prefers Mollies, it would be quite the scandal.”

Keith raised a brow. “What does that even matter?”

Lance had gone silent at that, strange for the Scotsman that was notorious for his loud mouth, yet here he was, speechless. Keith smirked and considered it a win. Lance cleared his throat. 

“Do you truly prefer rump?”

Their eyes held and Keith could feel the apprehension spiking in Lance’s posture. He was obviously nervous about what the truth may be… why? Why would it matter if Keith were privvy to men? It’s not like Lance was. Or perhaps… Keith’s eyes blinked slowly, his lips twitching as he took a step closer to Lance, who tensed immediately.

“Care to find out, Lord McClain?”

The hot puff of air Lance released blew across Keith’s neck, brushing his collar, making him curse for having to wear so many layers to these damned things. He was sure Lance would turn away now, go find some trollop to sully or even go after Lady Luxia, make amends so he could make his way into her pantaloons. But instead, those wicked dark blue eyes twinkled and a half smirk raised those full lips.

“Perhaps I do.”

There was a tease to that voice, one that Keith hadn’t intended to receive with his taunt, but the results were worth it. Lord McClain thrived on challenges - anyone who saw him at a gaming hell would be able to see that, and this was no different - those eyes flashing, mouth quirking, brow raising… god, Keith wanted… well, he wasn’t quite sure what he wanted, not with this man.

He swallowed, his collar suddenly very tight feeling and very hot. “Fine, shall we?”

It was amusing, watching Lance’s nose wrinkle as Keith offered him his arm, as if he was going to loop arms with him like some lady. Lance smacked his arm away and tutted.

“I am not some lady you’re courting nor am I a damned molly boy, I can follow you on my own.”

“Of course.”

Keith headed in, unsure if Lance was really going to follow him. He continued onward, not even daring to look back. If Lance was following, surely the other would be inconspicuous about it, so the best method was to continue to his location and not worry if the other was following or not. Once he found an empty parlor room, Keith walked in and waited, unsure if this place were truly appropriate for the tryst they were about to have, but where else was there? They couldn’t perform what they were about to do in a proper bedroom.

Just as Keith was beginning to grow annoyed with waiting for Lance, the scot walked in, his posture a little lurched and looking as if he were up to no good - which was true, after all - they both were up to no good.

Keith wasn’t sure who was to make the first move, if any moves were going to be made at all.

Lance licked his lips and Keith found his gaze besotted with that pink tongue, peeking out to brush against dusky lips.

“So was this a folly? A mere joke? I never knew you had such a sense of humor-”

Keith felt something snap, a strange sensation that made him move forward quicker than he thought possible. He had Lance pressed against a wall, his leg raising to press between the other’s legs. He could feel it, barely, but he knew it was there - the sign of interest that men could not hide.

Lance’s cheeks were mottled and his brows twisted. “It’s a normal reaction!”

Keith didn’t deny that, as he felt his own cock twitch in his pants, his eyes roaming over Lance’s face before he nodded. “It is, and no one ever has to know of this.”

That seemed to catch Lance’s attention. Keith swallowed as he worked on Lance’s pants, unfastening his belt and working on the buttons. When Keith’s fingers dipped into those pants, Lance let out a soft sigh.

“I suppose… I can keep this one away from the scandal sheets. It would have been a good one though… Scandalous Scot Caught with a Miscreant Marquess.”

“I’m wicked, am I?”

Keith emphasized that with a bite to his neck, tonguing the spot as he pulled away, his eyes felt hot with desire and he couldn’t keep them off of Lance, who was definitely panting, hips undulating against his touch. Keith cursed when Lance began to work on his pants, buckle popping open.

“I can’t be the only one getting debauched.”

The feel of the scot’s hand on his cock made him growl, eyes hot on him as he watched the other pump him; his hand twitched when he felt Lance’s hips thrust - encouraging him to keep going. The two of them worked on each other, the sound of their clothes rustling and the soft gasps they kept emitting filtered through the empty parlor. At the sound of wetness, Keith growled - leaning forward and sealing his lips to Lance’s, swallowing the groans the other gave him.

Keith’s ass flexed as he pounded against that hard hand, feeling the need to release. It all happened so fast, and so sloppily, that Keith felt nowhere near satisfied when it was over. The two of them panted, their eyes meeting before Lance drawled lazily.

“That was… ha, wow.”

Keith blinked, a smile reforming on his lips - it was then Lance realized what he said, eyes widening and then a grimace marred his handsome face.  
“Let’s get cleaned up. Then, I’ll leave first.”

Keith didn’t argue, didn’t even speak as they managed to clean themselves off as best as they could with their limited supplies.

Just before Lance began to leave, Keith grabbed him by the arm.

“Is this tryst doable at another time?”

Keith held still as Lance looked down at where his arm was grabbed and then back up at Keith. The heat in the air between them felt so electric, so alive. It made Keith himself feel alive and full of pulsating electricity. He’d never felt like this before. Lance gave him a soft smirk.

“I suppose you were good enough that I can lend you more of my time.”

Keith snorted. “Good enough? You were the one stricken speechless for a moment.”

Lance scowled and wrenched his arm away. Keith watched as he walked away, his smirk still in place as he knew the scot would seek him out again and their little sordid secret would continue.

Finally, Keith found use of these blasted seasons - if he could run into the scot in each one, they’d end up finding a lot of pleasure together.

For once, Keith found he actually quite liked the seasons.


End file.
